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The bread tins were put into the oven by using what was called a Peel, this was a long pole with a flattened blade that was tapered at one end and could hold two tins. Dad had two of these, one was five foot long and the other about ten feet, these were kept on two "U" brackets that hung down from the ceiling and directly in line with the oven door. When you wanted to use them all you had to do was raise your arm to get hold of them, select which one you wanted, move the blade back away from the bracket push it so that it angled down and rested on the apron of the oven, place the tins on it and thrust them into the oven.
Dad made what was known as “eight hour doughs” and we would start making the bread at 8.00 pm, he would be up at 4.00 am. preparing it for the bread tins. The dough had to be weighed, and kneaded before putting into the tins. The oven held 240 high tin loaves, which was the only type made when dad first took over, he gradually introduce sandwich loaves and bread rolls, when flour rationing eased and he was able to access brown flour he introduced Hovis.
Next to the bakehouse and oven was a small scullery with a large copper where the laundry was done. Water was heated by a fire box under the copper and was drawn from the well in the garden outside the scullery door. It was another of my jobs on washing day to light the fire and fill the copper by drawing water from the well by dropping a bucket down on a rope and pulling it up. Abutting the oven and scullery was the coal shed where baker’s nuts as they were called, were stored for the bakery oven. Next was a garage for the small van, which before motor vehicles housed a horse cart. The stables were next which my grandfather converted to a chicken house and piggery. He kept the house supplied with vegetables grown in the garden and eggs. Occasionally when a chicken stopped laying it found it's way to the kitchen table. The end of the buildings and garden was enclosed by a high stone wall with glass embedded into the cement capping to deter anybody from climbing over.
The bakehouse oven fire was never out, bread was baked six days a week, Monday to Saturday. On Sundays dad would cook not only the villagers Sunday Roast but also the American airmen's turkey or chicken. The oven was always full on a Sunday, the villagers always had the traditional Yorkshire Pudding around the meat and potato's, dad would make up a large batch of Yorkshire Pudding batter and at the appropriate time take the roast out of the oven and pour the batter into the baking tray, then back into the oven to finish it off.
Grain for the flour to make the bread was of a very high quality, rich in protein and came from Manitoba, Canada. The miller in Sharnbrook received the grain at the mill and ground it into flour for distribution to bakeries like dad, who had a standing order that they would deliver once a month. A lorry would arrive with a load of 50 sacks of flour each weighing 120lbs, these had to be lifted from the tray of the lorry up into the loft above the bakehouse window, and was achieved by driving the lorry onto the footpath as close to the wall of the bakehouse as possible and using a gantry and pulley that was swung out from the doorway of the loft and lowered to the tray. The winch was hand operated, with a cogged wheel that had a ratchet engaging the cogs and acted as a brake, as the sack reached the top of the pulley it was swung into the loft, unhooked and stored. The gantry was then swung outwards again and the next one winched up.
Dad had a bakery round during 1945 that encompassed Newton Bromswold, Yelden, Swinshead, Upper Dean, Shelton and Tilbrook. He used a small Austin Panel Van to deliver bread on a Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. During 1945 and until hostilities ceased the bombers from the airbase would take off over Yelden and occasionally he would have to wait at the boom gate about half a mile from the last house in Caldecott until the last bomber had taken off so that he could deliver. The flightpath was right over the road and the sentry wouldn't let him through until he got the all clear, sometimes he could be sitting there for half an hour. It was a good way of becoming friends with the sentries. Cont... |
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A Baker’s Tale (part 2) |
